Discovering the shadow world
by ClerondaleFairchace
Summary: Clary Fray gets astray in her own school, and accidentally bumps into three teenagers who casually kill someone. After convincing herself she must've dreamt it, she once again stumbles into them, and gets caught up in a world she never knew existed. (My vision of what could have happened if there had been no war.)
1. Chapter 1

**Hello there, my felly fanfic-lovers! I'm ClerondaleFairchace, and I have decided to post the first chapter of my first fanfic about the Mortal Instruments. Is this my first fanfiction at all, you ask? Well, no. I have written some before, and posted them somewhere else.**

 **However. I have long been a fan of the Mortal Instruments, and have finally taken up the courage to take my own shot at it. I have decided to try and write a story on what could've happened if there hadn't been a war (Remember, the uprising still happened, so Jocelyn still took Clary into hiding, only Valentine isn't rising to power again right now.)**

 **I will no longer keep you from reading than it takes me to write the following words: I do not own the concept of the Mortal Instruments, any of the characters, settings or situations. They belong to Cassandra Clare.**

I would like to start by saying how much wished I didn't know what had happened to the guy lying motionless on the street. And how above that I wished that I hadn't been involved in it. And that I wished even more that there wasn't an indentation in the hood of my best friend's van in the form of this exact guy. And also that I wouldn't be driving that same van right now. And most of all I wished that I wasn't speeding away from the scene as fast as I could.

Before you're too quick to judge, let me explain what happened up to this point. I'll summarize it up until the point that decided my fate. Then I'll start recounting everything that happened, even the seemingly unimportant details, because I couldn't give a clear recap of what came next. I'll be doing it this way, because I'm still not that sure of what happened exactly after that point.

So it all started this afternoon, in chemistry class. I had not exactly been focused on the practical assignment we had been working on, and nearly let the entire classroom explode - I pulled the gas supply hose from the gas tap before I closed said tap, while surrounded by multiple working gas burners. An easy mistake to make when you haven't slept properly in days. It would be safe to say that my teacher had not been pleased with me. I was told to go to the principal, and that I would be serving detention in the not so distant future. As the naturally good girl that I am I followed the instructions and took off in the direction of the office of principal McKenzie.

And that's when it all went wrong. Well, not everything, but if I'd stalled my departure from classroom 1.10 for only a minute longer, it's completely possible that I wouldn't be fleeing a crime scene right now.

So anyway, with my perfect attendance I was a bit frustrated to be kicked out of class in one of the last few weeks of my high school carreer. My pace was a little bit more agitated than usual, and as I spun around the banisters a bit quicker than usual, the shoulder belt of my bag got caught on it and snapped. I should have just taken the time to gather all my stuff and go borrow a bag from the janitor: principal McKenzie knew me, liked me, and would have understood my delay. Instead I kicked my bag in frustration and left it there at the top of the stairs.

As I passed the blinded windows of one of the girls' bathrooms, I noticed that my mascara had smeared. Un-be-liev-a-ble. Some girls could apply a face completely different from their own in the morning and still look exactly the same as they went to bed, and the only kind of make-up I wore had to smear.

On a normal day I would have made a pitstop in that very bathroom and swiped off the black smear, but this day I had been tired, somewhat grumpy and my perfect attendance had been broken. The _great_ rebel inside me told me not to care about the little smudge, and now I wished that it hadn't.

Had any of those things gone differently, then I wouldn't have seen a trio of tall, goth-looking teenagers – two boys, one blond and one blackhaired, and one blackhaired girl - sneak into the basement of our school. And had I not seen that very trio of goth-looking teenagers sneak into the basement of our school, then I wouldn't have followed them.

Now I know that they say that curiosity killed the cat, so many would say that this whole situation I am in right now is my own fault, but I always respond that satisfaction brought the cat back, and up until this point, that stance had never brought me into trouble. Exactly. Up until this point.

So far the quick introduction. From now on, I'll write this story exactly as it happened.

So I entered the basement. It was pitch-black, though I wouldn't have expected it any other way. The lighting hadn't worked properly since long before the current janitor, John, had taken up his post, and last year, the faithful lightbulbs finally went out for the last time. John hadn't bothered to replace them: hardly anyone but him and me – I liked to help him out with chores on Friday afternoons - ever descended the creaky stairs that led to the basement.

I heard the familiar buzzing of the heating installation that kept the school from freezing over in the winter, and recounting the steps I had learned to take, I crossed the small room to the door that led to the actual basement. I let my fingers graze over the door knob, and just as I was about to open the door, I stopped. I'd heard them talking.

"Do you have any last words, demon scum?" I was so busy listening carefully to the smooth voice, that it took me a few seconds to realize what it had said. Had I not been frozen yet, then I would have been at that moment.

"You can send me back all you want, angel boy," a screechy voice exclaimed, "but while all you can do is send us back, we keep coming back here, and eventually there'll be no more of you left to keep us from inhabiting this realm and feeding of it's..." I'll probably never know what the voice had been about to say, because I heard a slash, some gurgling, and then only silence.

"Damn, I really hoped..."

"We know Jace." The girl that had been accompanying the two boys said. "And it could've had it, but we'll just keep hunting them." The cool way in which she said this made my spine shiver. So calm and collected.

I heard some footsteps, and hurried to crouch behind the heating system, and no sooner had I – hopefully – completely disappeared behind it then they opened the door and came through it. I had expected to see only their faint outlines because of the small window I knew was in the room they had just been in, but the boy that entered the bioler room first carried some kind of stone that emitted a bright kind of light. I could see more than just the sharp outline of his face. He was the blond guy. His hair was not only blond, but also curly in a way that reminded me of a lion. His eyes seemed golden, but that must've been a trick of the light. The sharp angles of his cheek-bones and his jaw really set his face apart from any other guy I had seen so far. Well, that, and also the giant dagger het was carrying.

I held my breath, willed my heart to beat as softly as it possibly could, and prayed not to be discovered.I measured the time not in seconds, but in the sharp ticks the six-inch heels of the girl made on the marble floor. Just as they had reached the stairs, I let my breath go.

A mistake.

The blond boy froze on the spot, and the pair that followed him halted just in time not to bump into him.

"Anything wrong?" The blackhaired boy asked. The other guy, who – by the sound of his voice – was Jace, shook his head.

"I thought I heard something." I felt tense in my entire body, and therefore forgot to look away. Jace scanned the room, and caught my gaze. I felt my blood freeze in my veins, and I'm pretty sure that my heart skipped at least four beats. _Please go away! Please!_ I closed my eyes, afraid to see what was coming. I had to force myself not to cry at the thought of ending the same way as the boy in the room next to this one.

An eternity seemed to have passed when I heard the door above the stairs close.

 **So this has been a kind of a teaser chapter, but the following chapter will be more like a scene from the book. I know this because I have already written out what exactly will happen in it, and it will appear within the day.**

 **Should you, indeed, like this fanfiction, please follow or favorite this story, or leave a review. Especially reviews with constructive criticism are very much appreciated.**

 **With kind regards, ClerondaleFairchace**


	2. Chapter 2

**As I promised, withing the day. In this chapter we do see a very familiar scene, but I have mostly given it my own spin, after all, this is a fanfiction, not a replication of CC's masterpiece. I hope you can appreciate the differences I have come up with.**

 **Please enjoy, but not before reading the following: I do not own the concept of the Mortal Instruments, any of the characters, settings or situations. They belong to Cassandra Clare.**

I let out a little sob as I let go of the tension. And then I started to laugh a bit. _This didn't really just happen, did it?_ I made my way to the room where I'd screechy-voiced boy being murdered, and found it empty.

 _What the hell? Did my mind just make that up?_

I took a few deep breaths, decided to skip the classes on Wednesday morning so that I could sleep in, and promised myself not to watch thrillers before bed time again.

When I climbed the stairs and entered the hall of the school again, I found it empty. I checked my watch, and realised that I'd been in the basement for over half an hour. Chemistry had been the ninth period, so by now, it made sense that everyone but the cleaners had gone home.

"Clary!" I saw Simon, my best friend, leaning over the balustrade of the first floor, and he skipped two steps at a time as he ran down the stairs. "Where were you?"

"I'm sorry, Si, I just wandered off a bit, and somehow found myself in the basement. I think I fell asleep. That's how I must've missed the bell." He accepted my apology, gave me my jacket, which he had apparantly been carrying along since the end of class for me, and started dragging me to the entrance.

"Simon, I still have to go get my bag. It was torn."

"John found it, mended it and gave it to me. It's already in the van." I shrugged and let myself be dragged outside. Typical Simon.

Simon drove us to my place in no time, and before I knew it, I found myself situated in the living room, surrounded by my mother, her best friend Luke, and my best friend Simon, with them singing a loud chorus of 'Happy Birthday'.

No, it was not my birthday. My sixteenth birthday was two days after that, but my mother would be out of town by then – only after I'd had reassured her over a thousand times that it was okay, and that she, as an artist, had to take the oppotunity of having her paintings displayed in a gallery, even if it was a lesser known one.

So anyway, 'Happy Birthday', garlands and ridiculous party hats. There were even four cupcakes waiting to be eaten on the table.

We ate lasagna that evening, and after Luke had left for his night shift, Simon and I bade my mother an early good night and left for some poetry reading of Eric, a friend of his.

The poetry was, as usual, spectacularly terrible, but we were good friends and stayed all evening. When it had (finally) ended, Simon, Eric and I had a coffee, before Eric left to ride home with a friend.

"Shouldn't we head home, too?" I pouted a bit at Simon.

"It's barely half past ten. Can't we go to a club or something?" Simon frowned, and I grabbed his elbow. "Please? It is my birthday..." He scrunched his face, and then threw his hands up.

"Sure, your birthday, but I do intend to deliver you home _before_ half past twelve, or Jocelyn will never let you go out with me again." I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, please, Simon," I said sarcastically, "My mother would forgive you anything. She adores you." Simon gave me one last whatever, and then drove us to this club called Pandemonium. We got in line, and as we encountered the bouncer, he narrowed his eyes.

"You don't look like you're sixteen."

"I'm not, but I'm celebrating my sixteenth today, could you please make an exception? Please?" The bouncer shrugged and stepped aside. Before he could change his mind we slipped past him.

"I didn't expect it to be that easy!" Simon yelled in my ear. I shrugged, like the bouncer had done seconds before me. "Do you want a drink?" I nodded, and Simon disappeared in the crowd, in the direction of the bar.

I started wandering around, trying to take steps to the beat of the music. To be honest, this wasn't really my scene, but I still liked it.

Just as I thought I had approached the bar, I found myself staring at a door of a back room, and three all too familiar teenagers slipping in. I froze on the spot, and contemplated calling the cops. Then I realised that I would, at the very least, need some sort of proof, so I tried to sneak in after them as quietly as I could. I took out my phone and aimed my camera at the darkness in front of me.

I heard some muffled cries from behind a stack of shelves, and carefully moved around them a bit.

Then I saw them again. Fully visible this girl was fair skinned, a pretty physique, eyes about as black as her hair, and a whip curled around the neck of a new victim. The blackharied boy had mesmerizing, blue eyes, and the same type of blade the Jace-guy had been carrying against the neck of the victim, for good measure I guess. The Jace-guy himself was creeping around like a predator preparing himself for the kill.

"Even if you found the right one, you don't honestly believe you could get it out of him, do you?" I guess Jace hadn't granted this boy some last words, or the former ones we the last ones, because in front of my camera, Jace slit the throat of the boy.

I didn't realize I was screaming until all three of them were staring at me. Not even like I was crazy, just surprised.

When I finally had some control over my vocal cords again, I yelled at them. "Now I have proof!" I dangled my phone in front of them." For some reason the corners of their mouths lifted a little. "What are you laughing about, I recorded you killing someone, and I'm taking this to the police!"

"Check the footage then." The blue-eyed boy said. I did, and found that my phone had solely recorded the stockroom, but empty.

"What the hell?" Just then Simon burst in. I took one look at him, then ran for it. I dragged him along, and after a few seconds he got the idea and started running along. I didn't stop until we were both seated in the van, and I had Simon racing off of the parking lot.

"Faster!"

"I'm already going double the speed limit, Clary." Simon looked at me for a second. "What the hell is going on?" Just then someone jumped in front of the van, stared at me – even seemed to lick his teeth with a seemingly forked tongue – before Simon hit him.

"Simon!" I exclaimed. He hit the break and looked at me for an explanation. "You just hit somebody, didn't you see?" In hindsight, I think I should have seen this coming, but at that exact moment, it all became too much for poor Simon, and he fainted in his seat.

I can't say I'm proud of it, but I climbed over him, pushed him into my seat, and without even taking a better look than a look in the rear view mirror I hit the gas and drove away.

 **So yes, that was quite different. Even though I still thought that it would only be right for Clary to – at least, for a part – discover the shadowworld in the same way that Clare wrote it.**

 **Please let me know what you thought, either through a favorite, follow or review.**

 **With kind regards, Clerondale Fairchace**


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